Page 54 of What a Widow Wants

“Close the door, Clayborn.” Lavinia sat back in her chair, watching until the door shut, then turned a malevolent gaze on Fanny. “Why does Stephen’s daughter look like Lord Lathbury?”

Head suddenly cool and mind focused, Fanny shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean, Lavinia. The child saw a similar coloring between her and the earl, nothing more. She’s too young to understand anything other than that.”

“But I do understand, all too well now.” The marchioness rose, her lips pulled back in a grimace. “When I met Lord Lathbury something nagged at me. I’d not met him before, yet he seemed very familiar. And as soon as Ella pointed it out, it became obvious. He looked familiar because he looks like her. And he looks like her because he is her father. They favor one another much too well beyond just their coloring.” Trembling, she drew herself up. “How could you betray Stephen so? Betray the Tarkington family so?”

Clenching her fists, Fanny rose. She could continue to deny the accusation, but Lavinia would never believe her. She’d always disliked Fanny, so nothing she said now would change that in the least. Time at last to set the record straight. “How could I betray him? Better ask your precious Stephen how he could betray and dishonor me.”

“Stephen would never—”

“Oh, wouldn’t he? You may have no idea what Stephen Tarkington did and did not do during the course of our marriage, but everyone else in the ton certainly knew it. After the first year of our marriage I could not set foot in a ballroom without the constant whispers. ‘Do you think she knows?’ ‘Will she make a scene?’ ‘Did you hear he was almost caught by the woman’s husband?’ I tried to ignore the whispers, ignore the nights Stephen did not come home, ignore the smell of women’s perfume and powder on his uniform whenever he did come home.”

“Men cannot be held accountable for their baser transgressions. And you must have known his reputation when you married him, my dear. He was never a saint by anyone’s estimation.” The cool defense of her philandering husband by a woman who’d never experienced such shame enraged Fanny even more.

“I knew he was a rake, but I believed he would change after our marriage.” More fool her. “And even . . . even after I realized he would never change, I would not have betrayed him had he not dishonored me in the vilest manner.” The memory of it even now made her ill.

Suddenly wary, Lavinia drew back. “I doubt Stephen would have done anything as wicked as you claim. Men simply have greater needs than women do.”

“Then he should have eased them with a light woman in a brothel, or procured a mistress. Someone I would not have to meet socially.” Chest heaving with pain and anger years old, Fanny fought back tears in a fight she would not win. “But he chose to dally with women of the ton. Married women bored with their own husbands, who allowed themselves to be seduced by a handsome face in regimentals.”

“You are mistaken, my dear.” Her sister-in-law’s smile had slipped, but she insisted on denying the truth. “Stephen would not have risked bringing scandal to this house by consorting so with decent women.”

“Why do you insist on defending him?” The woman would drive her mad. Had she really never known of Stephen’s unfaithfulness? “If you don’t believe me, you can ask your husband. I’m certain he remembers. I believe he may have paid off a husband or two so they wouldn’t call Stephen out. So the affairs never became full-blown scandals, although rumors of them circulated a great deal. The worst infidelity drove me to seek my revenge.”

“Lies, all lies.” Lavinia’s voice rose shrilly. “Can you name these ladies you claim he . . . he dallied with?”

“Lady Godwin was the first I knew of, almost a year after we married. A fleeting transgression that I forgave him for. Then a somewhat longer affair with the Countess of Alnwick, after which he was so contrite I forgave him again.” How many more might she have forgiven him for but for Selena? “The one I could not forgive, will never forgive him for, was his affair with Selena Prothroe.”

“Selena Prothroe?” Lavinia’s jaw dropped. “Wasn’t she . . .”

“The maid of honor at our wedding? Yes, and my friend since childhood.” Had she any opportunity to do bodily or other harm to the deceitful Selena, she would have sold her soul to do so. Unfortunately, no such chance had presented itself. Yet. “She married soon after I did, to a man with much less exalted connections than Stephen. Perhaps she was jealous of me. I know she was smitten with Stephen. We both were. In the end I suspect no one could say who seduced whom.”

“Why have I never heard of any of this?” The demanding tone in her sister-in-law’s voice made Fanny want to laugh.

“God knows, Lavinia. Everyone else did. Except for his affair with Selena. In that instance Stephen exercised some discretion at least. Perhaps he believed if I found out I would not accept it quietly as I had the others. I might not have ever known of that dalliance except—”

Try as she might the memory of that night would always haunt her. Lying in their bed, her husband on top of her, riding her to a fiercely passionate conclusion, only to call out the wrong woman’s name . . . Shaking her head to clear the image from her mind, Fanny drew a deep breath.

“Except what?”

“Except for a chance mention of her name. When the truth came out, I was hurt and angry enough to exact my own revenge on Stephen. Lord Lathbury had shown great interest in me before my marriage. I managed to kindle those feelings once more.” Would that she could do so again. “We saw one another for almost four months; however, my conscience wouldn’t let me continue the affair when he wished us to run away together and I broke it off. After I returned to Stephen, I discovered I was increasing and simply assumed the child was his. Until last month when I saw Ella and Lathbury together.”

“Does Lord Lathbury know?” Her sister-in-law’s words dripped ice.

“Yes.”

“But he does not wish to marry the mother of his child?” The marchioness’s frown transformed her face into a gargoyle’s.

“He was incensed that I hadn’t told him about her, even though I swore I didn’t know. We quarreled and I have not heard a word from him since that day, so I assume he has done with me, despite his connection to Ella.” Drained by the whole dismal recitation, Fanny sank onto the chaise. If she never had to rise again she’d be delighted.

“That at least is a blessing.” Lavinia’s pronouncement brought Fanny’s head back up. “You can never marry Lord Lathbury, Frances. Do you not see that? If you and Ella lived with the man it would be inevitable that people would see them together and realize what you had done. The entire Tarkington family’s reputation would be irreparably soiled. It is only by the grace of God no one has made the connection yet.” The marchioness’s eyes bore into Fanny. “We will not allow your misbehavior to ruin Theale, to make him and Stephen a laughingstock before the whole ton.”

Fanny winced. Lady Lathbury had told her the matter was of little consequence. She’d doubted it at the time, but had grown to hope it was true, as that would have made her marriage to Matthew much easier.

Lavinia’s outrage at the situation, however, was completely genuine. Matthew’s mother must have lied, as she had suspected, in order to get her to agree to marry him. By moving Ella into the country, she must have hoped the prying eyes of Society’s gossips would not see the resemblance. At least now it seemed a moot point. Matthew had broken with her, likely for good.

Shaking off the dread that had taken hold of her, Fanny stared calmly back at her sister-in-law. Life for her in the Theale household from now on would be an unmitigated hell.

“Mark my words, Frances, Theale will hear of this outrage. Such a scandal has never touched our family and for you to do such a thing is unconscionable.” Lavinia nodded so violently her cap came askew. She turned, heading for the doorway with a determined walk. “I tremble to think what Theale will do.”